Drabblicity
by ijustliketowatch
Summary: Or a season's worth of drabbles starring Oliver Queen and everyone's favorite IT girl.
1. The Grey Dress

I don't even know how this happened. I blame the Olicity fandom on Tumblr. This might just end up being a one-shot or maybe this is where I'll put all my Olicity drabbles for season 2. Anyway, enjoy me and Oliver shamelessly appreciating Felicity's backside.

* * *

Oh God, she's wearing the grey dress again. That infernal sheath of fabric that Oliver both hates and loves in equal measure.

He's always known that Felicity is a beautiful woman—even when her wardrobe mostly consisted of outfits that made her look like a librarian. Which also had a certain appeal. But it wasn't until she wore this dress shortly after he returned from the island a second time that he came to terms with one very real truth. Felicity Smoak has a _terrific_ ass.

And that's on a normal day. But in this dress? It's undeniable. The person who designed it was either a genius or a sadist. The tight fabric that hugs every curve and leaves so, so little to the imagination—except maybe the color of the panties beneath, which Oliver's imagination has spent an alarming amount of time on. The twin orange panels on her abdomen just above her hips that practically beg to have his hands on them, pulling her back so that glorious ass of hers would be pressed against him.

He remembers the first time she wore it with striking clarity. He had briefly registered how well the dress complemented her figure as he exited the elevator, but her yelling took up most of his attention. Though he didn't understand her anger considering he'd just doubled her salary by moving her upstairs.

After tricking him with a rather clever line about not getting him coffee, she stormed out of his office. He was going to follow up her little outburst with a request to make dinner reservations for Diggle, Carly and him when he noticed it, his seated position offering him a devastating view. The way the fabric clung to the flesh beneath, the sway of her hips accentuated by the stomping, the way the zipper on the back directed his eyes straight to her ass. His mind went completely blank until she walked past Diggle and he was suddenly reminded that he was going to say something.

He'd tried to banish the thought from his mind the rest of the day, chalking up the moment to his 5-month dry spell. But by the time she stormed away again in the foundry that night, he knew: Felicity had a great ass and he liked looking at it.

Oliver really doesn't have time for this today. He's got another sparring match with Isabel Rochev this morning about Queen Consolidated's finances and he needs to be prepared. So, once he returns Felicity's good morning wave and shamelessly watches her sit down, he turns to his computer to go over his notes. At least he intends to.

As he waits for his computer to sign in, he happens to glance up toward Felicity's direction again and is struck dumb by the sight of her leaning over her desk, butt sticking out a little as she signs a clipboard held out by a delivery guy. She smiles at him, hands the pen back and picks up the box he delivered.

"Don't get used to this," she says as she carries the box into the office as Diggle holds open the door for her. "Mail is also on the list of things I won't be fetching for you, but I didn't want this in my way. What is this anyway?" she asks after she sets the box down on his desk.

"Birthday present for Thea," he says and moves it to the drawers behind his chair. "She checks all the shipments we get at the club and I didn't want her to see it." Felicity nods and turns to walk back to her desk, but Oliver stops her because he'd like a few more moments with the dress.

"Uh, Felicity?" he starts and then realizes he doesn't have anything to follow it up. "Um, where did you save the financial statements the accountants sent us?" She sighs and tilts her head, annoyed.

"In the file marked 'Financial Reports' in the shared drive, like I told you," she says, exasperated.

"Oh, right."

"Do you remember the password?" she asks condescendingly.

"No," he lies. Felicity rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Scoot," she says with a wave of her hand as she approaches his desk. He rolls his chair to the side and silently congratulates himself when she leans over his desk to locate the file and he gets the most amazing view of her ass he's probably ever gotten. He's so busy staring that when she turns to tell him the password again, she almost catches him.

"I won't forget this time," he insists, hoping she won't have time to think about why he was startled. "are you all set for the meeting?"

"Yup," she replies, "ready to take notes, as usual." She turns and walks out then, muttering something about not ordering bagels this time because nobody ever eats them anyway and Oliver thinks he's gotten away with ogling her until he notices Diggle giving him a stern look. Oliver shrugs helplessly and Diggle frowns and shakes his head at him, the threat clear. He really hopes his partner doesn't tell Felicity about it. He shudders to think about the yelling. But he doesn't feel terribly guilty. He's powerless against that dress.

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Thanks and leave a review, if you please. Or not. Your call.


	2. Song and Dance

I've wanted to write something like this for awhile, but the commercial with Felicity singing to herself that aired during 2x05 made it impossible to ignore the plot bunny any longer. Pure fluff set a few months down the road from where the characters are now.

* * *

Oliver's never caught Felicity singing before. Humming definitely. Dancing, nearly every day. Rare are the times he looks up from his desk and doesn't find her shimmying to whatever tune is currently flowing though her headphones, abruptly freezing whenever a client or another employee appears in front of her desk.

But this full-on belting is something new. He doubts he'd be hearing it now if she had any idea she wasn't alone in the Verdant basement. The music blaring from the computers' speakers must have masked the sounds of him opening the door and he's glad for it; she's pretty good. Apparently singing is another one of Ms. Smoak's many talents.

He pauses at the top of the stairs and just enjoys the scene, smiling to himself as Felicity unabashedly sings as she types. The typing stops abruptly, however, when a new song starts and Felicity gasps in excitement. She spins her chair as the opening notes play and then sings even louder when a man begins crooning.

_Cupid, draw back your bow and let your arrow go_

_Straight to my lover's heart for me, for me_

_Cupid, please hear my cry and let your arrow fly_

_Straight to my lover's heart for me_

The song sounds old, at least 50 years, and he's just wondering how she knows it so well when the chorus starts again and Felicity doesn't seem content to just dance in her seat anymore. Instead, she stands, goes to the case that holds his bow and picks it up, pulling back the string and letting it go in time with the whooshing sound effect in the song. It's perhaps the most charming thing he's ever seen.

She continues to dance around with the bow for the remainder of the song, completely oblivious that she has an audience until Oliver begins to applaud when the song ends. Felicity's face blanches at the sound and she stares at him, wide-eyed in complete mortification as he walks down the stairs.

"You know, I think Cupid's hardware is probably a little less dangerous than that," Oliver says and points at the bow still raised in her hands. Felicity glances over at it—like she's just remembering it's there at all—and then quickly places it back in the case, her face now a shade of red not far from the color of the dress she's wearing.

"Yeah, but you probably look better wearing just a set of wings," she mutters absently and then her face nearly turns purple when she realizes what she's just said. "I didn't mean that, not that I don't think you're attractive," she sputters and self-consciously runs her hands down the sides of her dress to smooth nonexistent creases. "Wait, no. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hit on you," she says, gesturing a stopping motion with her hands and then pausing to take a breath. "Ok, subject change. Um, exactly how much of that song did you hear me sing?"

"All of it," Oliver replies and Felicity cringes. "You've got a good voice," he adds, hoping the compliment will lessen her embarrassment before she spontaneously combusts.

"Thanks," she mutters and then walks back to her desk to turn down the volume, now strenuously avoiding looking at him.

Diggle appears then and Felicity immediately starts rambling about what she's found on their next target, blatantly trying to keep Oliver from mentioning the incident to their partner. Oliver lets her, but he doesn't forget. He spends the next two days before Valentine's preparing, even bringing Diggle into his little scheme. He makes sure she's delayed at work the day of so that he and Diggle get to Verdant well before her.

"Where's Oliver?" she asks when she finally arrives.

"He's in back changing," Diggle replies. "We've got an emergency situation."

"What is it?" she asks, her eyes narrowing as she starts to scan her computer screens.

"Looks like there's a Valentine's date that isn't going well," Diggle explains, totally serious.

"What?" Felicity begins, but stops when Oliver finally steps out from where he's been hiding. Her mouth drops open when she first sees him, not because he's shirtless this time, but because he's wearing a giant set of wings and a pair of white shorts with little hearts on them instead of his Arrow gear.

"Felicity, I'll need you to tap into the surveillance feeds at the restaurant so I can scope out a good location to fire on the couple," Oliver says as he goes to pick up his bow. Felicity still doesn't react, though. It's not until he picks up the modified arrow with a tiny plush heart attached to the end instead of an arrowhead that she falls back into her chair and starts to laugh. She laughs even harder when Oliver fires the heart arrow at Diggle and it's a good five minutes before she's composed herself. Oliver approaches her desk then, smirking down at her as she wipes tears from her eyes.

"So do the wings suit me?" he asks and strikes a little pose to show them off that sets her laughing again.

"Definitely," she assures.

* * *

The song, by the way, is Sam Cooke's "Cupid." Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you don't mind.


	3. Games

Inspired by p0cketw0tch's post on Tumblr about Sara flirting with Felicity to tease Oliver. But, really, the only excuse for this is my dirty mind. If I had any gift for writing smut, this whole thing might have ended differently...

* * *

Oliver wonders if Felicity would be into it. He _knows_ Sara would be. Not just because he has very distinct memories of her sharing intense make out sessions with other girls during parties pre-island either. No, she's been turning on the charm with Felicity since the beginning.

The first thing Sara said to her was, "you're cute." Sure, Felicity had just gone on one of her awkward rambles and the statement is generally pretty accurate, but even if that moment were an aberration, everything about their interactions since has only solidified it in his mind. Sara is pursuing Felicity.

In fact, she's flirting with her right now. The only question is whether Felicity is aware of it. Oliver looks across the room from the work station where he's fashioning arrows to where the women are literally circling each other on the training mats and wonders how she could possibly miss it. Sara wasn't exactly subtle when she suggested this little sparring session and Felicity hadn't put up much of a fight, figuratively speaking. Literally speaking, she's putting up a rather good fight. They've only just started, but Felicity is doing surprisingly well. Though Oliver suspects Sara's taking it easy on her. He could have easily taken Felicity to the ground by now.

The arrowhead he's attaching to the wooden shaft suddenly slips in his hand and he's just deciding he's got to focus when he comes to understand the game Sara is playing here. Felicity, having grown cocky because of how well she's doing, makes a mistake and gets too close. Sara quickly takes advantage, twisting Felicity's body so her back is pressed to Sara's front. She leans in and whispers something in Felicity's ear and the latter smiles before elbowing Sara in the stomach and squirming out of her grasp. Felicity steps back to the edge of the mat, squaring her stance to ready herself for Sara's next move and smiles mischievously, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

Well, that settles it, the flirting must be mutual. Oliver's seen that look before, though this is the first time he's seen it directed at anyone but himself. It can be tough to tell what does and doesn't constitute flirting with Felicity. At least half the words out of her mouth are accidentally suggestive, so distinguishing the things she actually _means_ to say isn't always easy. But he has never seen her look at Diggle like that during their training sessions.

Damn Diggle. This wouldn't be happening if he weren't home sick with the flu. Oliver's got to find a way to focus on something other than the frankly delicious sounds Felicity and Sara are making as they spar. He looks down at the pile of arrows he's made and decides his best option is to go over to the grindstone and sharpen them. That will at least drown them out.

Unfortunately, doing so also puts him closer to the training mats. So, he's got a front row seat when Sara finally succeeds in knocking Felicity to the ground, landing on top of her in a way that has nothing to do with self defense. She leans down to playfully snarl in Felicity's face and Felicity responds with a laugh that Oliver thinks might be the most distracting sound of all. But that's nothing compared to the way he feels when Sara helps Felicity off the floor and then looks directly at him, smiling like the cat who ate the canary.

Mother of God. She's doing this on purpose. He had explained to Sara–repeatedly–that Felicity and he were nothing more than coworkers and good friends, but he should have known she was up to something by the sly tone in her voice every time she asked. And this whole performance doesn't change their relationship, of course. Felicity is just his friend and she and Sara can flirt as much as they want, but a man would have to be dead to ignore this. And Oliver feels very much alive right now.

He shakes his head a bit to clear his mind and then commits himself to sharpening arrows with renewed vigor. That is, until he sees Sara slam Felicity to the ground again out of the corner of his eye. The move seems unnecessarily rough and he's just about to protest on his friend's behalf (if only to wipe that smug look off Sara's face) when Felicity surprises them both. With a move he knows for a fact she didn't learn from Diggle, Felicity twists her body and strikes out with her arm so Sara is knocked backwards, falling flat on her back. Before she can move, Felicity pounces and ends up on her knees, straddling Sara's hips and holding down her hands with hers. She looks just as smug as Sara did a moment earlier, but Oliver finds it maddening for an entirely different reason.

Suddenly, he's reminded of what he's supposed to be doing by the ugly sound of the arrowhead slipping on the grindstone. Before he can react, the arrow slips in his loose grip and the bottom edge of the arrowhead catches on the stone, sending the arrow flying across the room where it clatters loudly against a weapon rack. When he looks back to where Felicity still sits atop Sara, he finds the former looking confused and the latter looking downright triumphant.

"You OK over there, Ollie?" Sara asks in mock concern.

"I think I've just been sitting too long," he says and stands, turning off the grindstone as he does. "Think I need a few minutes on the salmon ladder. Get the blood pumping," he adds, annoyed with himself and her. However, that changes a moment later when he catches Felicity's reaction to his decision, smiling and biting her bottom lip the same way she did earlier. Sara notices it too and Oliver can't help but feel smug at the look of jealousy that flits across her face. She turns to look at him then, her expression a mixture of anger and possessiveness that's also clearly a challenge. Oliver smirks back at her and then removes his shirt.

Two can play this game.

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Thanks for reading and leave a review, it might make me feel like less of a perv.

**UPDATE: Due to popular demand, I've made this into a smutty little chaptered story. It's called "Friendly Competition."**


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